


I Said I'd Be Back, Didn't I?

by Remington



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill follows them, F/M, Multi, The twins go back home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remington/pseuds/Remington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's official-- the summer has ended, and the twins have moved back to their home town. Now leaving a life of adventure, romance, and mystery, for their hum-drum life in the suburbs, Mabel and Dipper are convinced that they are destined to lead a school year of monotony and melancholy. At least, Mabel is, she's pretty sure that Dipper is just plain depressed. But just as Gravity Falls, things in their comfortable little city aren't always as they seem. And even if they are, one mischievous little triangle is set on making it otherwise, especially for the sweater-loving, braces-wearing, counterpart of Pine Tree himself.</p>
<p>A MaBill fanfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. URG GSV YROO

It had happened.

It had finally happened.

To be completely honest, Mabel was somewhat disappointed about leaving Gravity Falls. Okay, no, totally scratch that like a D.J., son, she was totally devastated! Even through her Gruncle Stan’s and her parent’s promises that they could visit next summer, Mabel had trouble slowing the streams of tears down her cheeks. Some even argued that she’d fallen more in love with Gravity Falls than her twin, Dipper, but most would agree that the siblings were equally enamored with the tiny, strange, mystic little town.

Mabel felt a sigh leave her lips, and sadly pressed another ‘U Can Do It’ sticker to her cheek. The total sticker count of Mabel’s facial area was, at the moment, 28. If you counted the ones on her tongue. Funny, no matter how many times she ended up eating it, glue didn’t ever seem to taste any better. It tasted even worse through the filter of her depression. Her arms folded across themselves, pressing into the plush, soft fabric of the sweater that Wendy had knitted as a going-away present. The stitching and string work was absolutely terrible in Mabel’s professional opinion, but she couldn’t keep herself from snuggling into the soft, pine-scented freshness. It still smelled like the place, too.

“Uh . . .” Came the uncertain mumble from her twin, who was staring at her with a mixture of pity and frustration from the other side of the bus seat. His expression briefly reminded Mabel that he was doing his best to contain his sadness, too—it wasn’t just her. Oh, geez, now she felt /selfish/. That’s not cool. On instinct, her hand grabbed another sticker, fiercely plastering it to her nose, smothering it in the glittery message of ‘Go-pher it!’, followed by the cartoonish picture of a smiling, cheery gopher.

“I’m cool, bro-bro!” She loudly announced, ignoring the attention of the suit-clad CEO and split-ended librarian looking lady. “I’m totally cool! Heh, like, the /coolest/. Who’s cooler than me? Ice cold- Wait, no, that’s not a person.” Pursing her lips in feigned concentration, Mabel sat back in her seat, purposefully avoiding her brother’s eyes. Dipper sighed, and through the corner of her eyes, Mabel could see his frown deepen.

Dipper had been taking it harder than even she had, or at least, it seemed like it. He hadn’t even gotten a third of the way through that journal, and though he’d taken it with him, stashed inside the bulkiness of his bags, Mabel knew that it wouldn’t be half as thrilling if he wasn’t trekking those woods, if /they/ weren’t trekking those woods /together/, the Mystery Twins back in action again. Mabel tightened her lips, and turned, placing a hand on his arm, something that caught his attention.

“Dipper, really. It’s going to be great! In fact, it’ll be magnificentious!” She pulled the final sticker from her bag, and slapped it onto the surprised boy’s face, her braces glinting as she grinned as bright as she could. “Just think about it, we haven’t seen Mom and Dad in forever! Don’t you miss them? And you’ve actually gotten /muscle/ over the summer, wait till all the boys in class pass out with FEAR!” She punched him gently in the shoulder, successfully earning a chuckle from the much more somber twin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Mabel.” He responded, with an affectionate noogie over her head. “After all, neither of us really expected to stay there /forever/. I can still figure out some secrets in the journal, yeah?” He attempted a hopeful smile, one that nearly broke her heart, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Raising her fist, Mabel held it near him, waiting for her brother to return the gesture.

“Mystery Twins?”

“Mystery Twins.”

As the let their fingers splay, Mabel giggled, her eyes catching a slight glow, a reflection in the bus window. It was gone in an instant, but she swore. . . .no, no. It couldn’t have been.

 

\----8-5 19 8-5-18-5 8-5 19 8-5-18-5 12-5-20 19 13-1-11-5 23-1-25----

The trip from Gravity Falls to their home was long. Long, tedious, and for now, Mabel was fairly certain that it was not wise to try and digest an entire ball of yarn due to boredom. Once the bus jolted to a halt in front of the stop, Mabel jolted awake from her sleeping position on Dipper’s shoulder, wiping the drool from her mouth. The boy next to her was far deeper in his dream world, a small smile playing on his face, and she could’ve sworn that his lips mouthed ‘Wendy’.

Blowing her bangs from her face, the sweater-clad girl shook him awake, blowing a raspberry in his ear for the desired effect. Dipper shot awake in a practiced form, one that only came from years and years of unpleasant, wet-willy awakenings. Looking towards her with glazed eyes, he only nodded, grabbed his bags, and set out the bus. Mabel followed suit, trying to ignore the chill that ran up her spine.

“Hey, Dipper. . . .” She muttered, rubbing her arm as she sat on the bus stop bench, watching the machine pull off into the distance. Her twin turned with a mumbled ‘Hm?’ of curiosity, sitting next to her and adjusting his hat. “Eh, it’s siiiillly.” Mabel later added, crossing her eyes and waving the puffy sleeves of her sweater. Dipper scoffed and nudged her, urging her to continue.

“Well. . . okay, okay.” Mabel turned towards him. “So, I dunno if you’re, like, thinking the same thing I am, because despite assumptions, we both know that telepathy is SO not our forte. Maybe psychic future telling, or mind control, but not telepathy. I mean, that’s /so/ overrated anyways, who likes telepathy? If I wanna get inside someone’s mind, I’d just send them one of ‘Mabel’s Mind Castle’ videos. Heh, there’s NOBODY that can get THAT image out of their head.” Grinning brightly, she nodded, before receiving a pinch on the nose from her brother.

“Mabel, you’re getting off topic again.” He reminded, rolling his eyes. “Come on, can’t you stay on subject for at least, like, a second? I’m already having trouble focusing, I don’t need my sister with the same problem.” Though his words were teasing, his tone was kind, almost concerned. Mabel felt another pang of guilt at the disappointment he was going through, and properly set her mind on track, nodding resolutely.

“Right, right. Okay, so, you don’t think that, well. . . anything followed us back, do you?”

“What do you mean, Mabel?”

“I mean, I know, it’s kinda weird! But I’m just kinda concerned, is all. What if we end up conjuring something that’s dangerous? Gruncle Stan can’t help us!” She knit her eyebrows, but raised them when Dipper suddenly hugged her, pulling her protectively close to himself. Mabel wasn’t un-used to receiving hugs from her brother, but unexplained ones needed to be, well, explained.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, worriedly listening to his tone, too somber for a twelve year old boy. “Mabel, can we just not talk about that? Please? I almost lost you to Gideon because Gruncle Stan wasn’t there, I almost lost you to a giant freaking Pterodactyl when Stan wasn’t there. Please /don’t/ mention that he’s not going to /be/ here for the entire /school/ year.” His grip tightened, and for one of the few times in her life, Mabel was genuinely scared, without even a silly joke to break the tension. 

“Dipper. . .” Mabel muttered, and sighed, pulling away. Suddenly, she squished his cheeks, making a fish face with her lips. “Honestly, boy, snap OUT of it! You think that we can achieve full Mystery Twins power by being pouty-shouty all the time? Quit the dramatics, brazo, let’s just enjoy what we can! We’ve got so much to /brag/ about now, don’t you see? I bet your bum that none of the other kids solved /half/, or even a /third/ as many mysteries as we did.”

Dipper’s expression morphed from sadness to amusement, and before he knew it, he was cackling, laying a hand on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. “Pffft, you’re right! I guess we do rock after all, then. And not to mention, you’ve knitted practically a new wardrobe of sweaters, all the other girls will be so jealous.”

Mabel laughed, holding her stomach as the twins giggled together. This continued for practically hours, jokes between them, pokings, pushings, and the occasional nose pinch. As the hour ended, a black car pulled into the bus stop, and the twins loaded in, on the ride home once more.

As Dipper was exchanging wild stories with their mother and father, Mabel idly glanced out the window, kicking her short legs, leaning her elbow on the window. She heard Dipper’s voice calling her, and turned her head.

“Right, Mabel?” He asked, that familiar, curious light shining in his eyes, “You /totally/ had a pet pig!”

“Oh, duh!” She answered, grinning, “I can’t wait until I reunite with my precious, lovely, cuddly, hubby-wubby-porky-tubby piece of Heaven!” Squealing, she hugged herself as her parents laughed, as well as her brother. As he returned to entertain the parental units with another story about a misadventure, Mabel turned back out the window, eyes widening as another flash of yellow and black appeared. . . in the shape of a triangle.

Mabel rubbed her eyes, and it was gone, but she could’ve sworn she heard a faint, muted cackling.

 

\----13-1-11-5 1 23-9-19-8 15-14 1 19-8-15-15-20-9-14-7 19-20-1-18----

 

The Pines family home was an interesting, hellish mixture of eclectic, modern, rustic, contemporary, and anything in between. Mabel liked to label it as “garage-sale-chic”. No matter how much she missed Gravity Falls, she couldn’t quite deny the coziness of being in her own room again. Dipper lay across his bed, scratching notes in the blank pages of the journal, completely tuned into his own little world. Mabel thought it was cute.

Soon enough, the siblings were both asleep, snoozing peacefully on their respective beds. Mabel’s, filled to the brim with oversized sweaters, stuffed animals, and glitter, and Dipper’s, full of crinkled note paper, the journal plastered across his face. 

Mabel mumbled, her dreams filled with scattering images of triangles, pyramids, glowing eyes and various runes. Her breathing quickened, her lips muttering ancient, latin incantations in her sleep. As the images drew to a sudden, short stop, she woke, sitting up in her bed with a thin sheen of sweat across her face. Gulping, she shot a guilty look at Dipper, before moving to slip off her bed. A good drink of water would do nicely.

The world suddenly grew gray and warped. Before she could process what was happening, Mabel was suddenly pushed back to the wall, wincing as her head struck the cuckoo clock. Her small fingers rubbed the bruise tenderly, eyes shifting up, widening in both horror and amazement at the figure before her.

“Hey there, Shooting Star!” Bill greeted, twirling his cane. “Man oh man, am I ever grateful for your brother’s never-ending negative energy, or else I’d /never/ have been able to hitch a ride back here.”


	2. 20-18-5-5-19 13-1-20-5 6-15-18 12-9-6-5 2-21-4-4-25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After somewhat processing the fact that she's now being visited by a demonic piece of geometry, Mabel learns the meaning of true love, deals, with just a touch of the illusion that reality existed in the first place. Also, Blood on the Dance Floor? Totally out of style.

WKH RPQLSRWHQW GRULWR UHWXUQV

 

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, ooh, a cracker!” Shortly after snacking on the crunchy memento previously hidden within the corners of her bed frame, Mabel returned to her disturbed state, curled into herself, sweater tugged over her knees. Her brown hair fell down in messy waves over her shoulders, bangs shadowing the eyes that occasionally glanced at the partially amused, partially confused Bill Cipher.

“. . . Kid,” He started, holding out his hand, leaning on his cane with the other one (what was he even resting the cane /on/, anyways?), “Kid, really, I’m flattered that I’m able to cause this terrible of a reaction, honestly, but all I did was possess your brother’s body and potentially break his hand. It’s really just kind of desperate at this point, your pining for my gratitude of your fear. Heh. Pining. I’m laughing because it’s a pun.” Mabel wasn’t quite sure if he was winking, or just blinking, but either way, she knew that she was in deep, deep trouble.

Slowly, she raised her head from her knees, straightening her legs. You can do this, Mabel. Maybe you can’t ward him off, but you can DEFINITELY go tell him to shove a mud stick up his triangle booty. Do triangles have booties? She grimaced. Okay. Don’t think about it Mabel, just don’t think about it.

Mabel gulped. “Bill. . .” She started, straightening up, “Bill, I’ve got something to say to you!” A fierce finger-point was jabbed at him, causing the triangle’s eye to widen as he held up his hands in mock defense. An entire minute passed between them, Mabel standing defiantly on her bed, and Bill waiting to hear the defiance in action. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Word of advice, Shooting Star, it’s really rather impolite to keep me on the hanging like that. As an all-powerful being of energy with no weakness whatsoever, I like to consider myself a Pretty Big Deal. Oh, and speaking of deals. . .” his voice grew low, his eye glowing a bright, fiery blue. If he had a mouth, she was fairly sure that he’d be grinning. “I almost forgot my entire reason for being here in the first place. How silly!”

Mabel gulped, biting her lip. What should she do? She momentarily glanced at Dipper’s peacefully sleeping body, totally and completely unaware that their greatest threat was hovering just a few feet off the ground. She had to take care of this. She was smart enough to know that whatever Bill was about to say, if she agreed, it was going to spell disaster. But what was he going to do to prevent it? “Bill,” She said with narrowed eyes, “I’m so NOT making a deal with you. Remember what happened in your LAST deal?” Now, she sported a cocky grin. “Yeah, that’s right! You were puppet-plucked! You can be darn sure that I won’t let THAT happen again.” 

Closing her eyes, she nodded resolutely, her dimpled smile spreading across her cheeks. Bill cackled, and floated closer, closer, closer, until by the time Mabel re-opened her eyes, he was inches from her nose. Yelping, the girl leapt back, once again smacking her head against the wall. “Ow! Aish, man, give a girl some personal space! I know that this here Mabel is one heck of a sight to gaze upon, no matter how many eyes you have, but geez, take a HINT, sucker!”

Her mock-threatening speech was enough to send Bill into another fit of laughter, placing a hand on his triangle-chest. “Okay, okay, Shooting Star, you’re killin’ me here. I can’t make a serious, threatening, disturbing deal with you if you make me break character, kiddo, and that’s really not cool. Now let’s drop the jokes.” His eye glowed a brighter blue, and if Mabel stared, she swore that she could see the galaxy.

“I’ve been watching you, Shooting Star, just like I’ve watched your brother.” He shrugged, closing his eye. “And frankly, you two have successfully held my interest, even after that little puppet encounter. That was still rude, by the way. But when I heard that my two favorite, lovable scamps were leaving Gravity Falls?” He suddenly turned to face her, hands folded behind his back. “Well, how could I do anything but tag along?”

Mabel grimaced again, raising a brow. “Ew, seriously? You followed us back because you were pathetic and lonely? That’s, like, what weird old men do! I mean, I don’t even know if you have a /gender/!”

“It wasn’t because I was lonely!” he immediately snapped, hands clenched. Mabel jolted, waiting for him to calm himself again. “Geez, Shooting Star, you’re making me so rude. That’s rude in itself, really. Anyways, I’m gonna make you a deal. This city is far, far colder than Gravity Falls, oddly, and I find myself chilly on these nights.” Giving a melancholy shrug, he closed his eye. “So, I want something that you possess in large, large quantities.”

“And that would be . . . ?”

“A sweater, is all! So, whaddya say, hm? Help a demon out?”

“Well, I mean. . . just a sweater? That’s it? You promise?” she asked, looking up with uncertainty. When Mabel looked back on this moment, she’d regard it as possibly one of the silliest, stupidest, weirdest things that she’d ever done. Bill only nodded, er, bowed eagerly, and outstretched his hand, a blue flame emerging. 

“I promise, kid! Now c’mon, I’ve a chill, and it needs warming!”

Mabel bit her lip, looked at Dipper, then Bill’s pitch black hand. What harm could it do? She was always happy to hand a sweater to those in need, and evil triangles shouldn’t be excluded. Or maybe they /should/ be excluded, but when you’re half asleep, you don’t tend to think about these things. Her fingers joined with his hand.

The flame spread along her arm, making Mabel jump, even though there wasn’t any heat to begin with. Bill began to cackle, harder, harder, and harder, until Mabel noticed that he was beginning to disappear. It wasn’t until she began to feel a heat along her shirt, did she look down, eyes widening at the triangle now forming on the chest of her sweater.

Oh no.

Oh no.

“No! No!” She yelled, trying to tug the sweater off. But for some reason, it stayed glued to her body, and by now, Bill’s cackling was muted, but ringing throughout her body. Mabel’s frantic yelling woke the twin in the adjacent bed, his fingers rubbing his droopy eyes.

“Mmmm. . . Mabel?” He asked, raising a brow. Suddenly, his sister stopped, looking up at him worriedly. 

“Oh, uh, Dipper. . .” She avoided eye contact, running a hand through her hair. “Heh, just go back to sleep, uh, just a silly nightmare.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You don’t wanna talk about it? You always talk about your crazy dreams and nightmares. It’s not Gideon again, is it?”

“Uh, yeah!” She laughed awkwardly. “You guessed it. I guess I’m just not really over that whole robot fiasco, you know? You can go back to sleep, I’ll just get a drink of water! Besides, YOU don’t want a repeat of the Bill incident, do you? Get some sleep!” 

That earned her a singe from the sweater, and a grimace from Dipper. It was enough to make him tuck back under the covers, with only a muttered ‘goodnight already’. Chuckling softly, Mabel tucked herself back in as well, frowning at the last, muted message, echoing inside her head.

“Goodnight, Shooting Star. Don’t forget to check for monsters, oh wait, they’re already here!”

 

\----NZYVO'H RM KVINZMVMG HDVZGVI GLDM MLD----

 

Even though they had three more days until school, Mabel awoke with a feeling of dread. Not because of the educational facility, but because of the current spectral force attached to her sweater. Dipper was still asleep when she moved out of bed, grabbed the brush on the nightstand to smooth out her hair, and began tiptoeing through the bedroom. As she moved down the stairs of the second story, she looked around, and headed for the back door. She just . . . needed some time alone.

However, the minute her foot hit the back patio, Bill’s metallic, mind-booming voice echoed in her head. Just as well, a vision of the triangle appeared before her, somehow irritatingly smug, even without a full pair of eyes, or a mouth.

“Goooood morning, Shooting Star!” He called, hands on his waist. Mabel only groaned, and promptly plopped on the patio chair, frowning at him. She said nothing, only gave him the harshest glare that a twelve year old with braces could manage, which, as she expected, made him chuckle.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that, kid, really. I had honest intentions. Besides, I think that it really adds to my charm, don’t you?”

She still said nothing.

“C’mon.”

Nothing.

Bill groaned, and sank back into her sweater. “Whatever, Shooting Star, you aren’t quite as cute when you’re pouting. You’re boring me now, and it’s really not a good idea to make me un-entertained. Come on! A joke, a story, even one of your weird laughs will do.”

Just as Mabel was about to tell him to jump off, the sweater suddenly glowed, Bill’s voice rising in volume. “Holy bologna! I’m sensing a hell of a lot of pent-up negative energy, and it’s not coming from your brother, either! Go around the front of your human hideout, Shooting Star!” Before Mabel could argue, the sweater glowed brighter, her body practically being dragged around the corners of her eclectic house.

“Woah, woah, woah!” She yelled, tugging down at the sweater. “Bill, cut it out, seriously! That’s totes uncool, bro, at least let me walk there myself! How would you like it if you were dragged around, hm? I bet you wouldn’t!” Mabel on realized that she was yelling at her sweater, when she heard a throat cleared.

It happened slowly. Or, at least, it happened slowly to her. She looked up, her gaze traveling over the dark jeans, eye-printed hoodie, pale fingers jabbed into the sleeves around the stomach. Bill’s mutterings were drowned out as Mabel gazed down the boy’s small face, brooding eyes slightly covered by the bangs fringed around his forehead. Her own eyes widened, practically sparkling, as she felt her cheeks heat up.

“He’s /perfect/.”

By now, she processed Bill’s mind-muttering, so clear in her conscience that she was surprised that she didn’t hear it before. He scoffed, and even though she couldn’t see him, she could practically /feel/ the sarcastic disgust that was so evident in his voice. “Eugh,” he said, “No wonder I sensed so much negative energy. The kid’s practically leaking pre-pubescent emotional issues. What’s that printed on his bracelet? Blood on the Dance Floor? That doesn’t make sense, no matter how much context you have.”

“Hush, hush!” She whispered, eyes shining. “Oh, right after Gabe, too . . . “

It wasn’t long until the girl had positioned herself slowly, expertly, behind the hoodie-clad boy, far too close for any kind of personal comfort. A few seconds of silence followed, completed by a loud, bellowing, “Hello!”

The boy gave a shriek of surprise, and Mabel could’ve sworn that she heard Bill’s snickering afterwards. Pinching the sweater slightly, she stepped forward, hands folded behind her back. “Oops, did I scare you? Heh, sorry about that. I mean, technically the scaring part was completely necessary, otherwise I wouldn’t have a unique introduction! The name’s Pines, Mabel Pines.” Extending her hand, she grinned, winking. “You are?”

“Uh. . . .” he started, biting his lip. “I’m . . . Jordan. Jordan Oak.”

Mabel gasped, hands squishing her cheeks in amazement. “Oh. Em. Gee.” Pines and Oak. Pines and Oak. Pines and freaking Oak, this was meant to be! She squealed at a frequency only meant for dogs and small animals, curling her hands near her chin. “Ooooh! Oh my gosh, are you seeing what’s happening here? Are you? We’re. . . “ She whispered, leaning uncomfortably close. “/Tree-mates/.”

The boy, instead of grimacing like a normal recipient of her usual flirting techniques, had a small smile creeping up on his lips. Soon enough, it morphed into full-fledged laughter, his small fingers covering over his mouth. “Ha! That’s actually pretty funny, I would’ve, like, never gotten that. Nice to meet you, fellow tree name.”

He wasn’t scared! He wasn’t running off! Mabel’s grin spread to her ears by this point, and she disregarded Bill’s scoff. “Oh gosh, it’s nice to meet you too! How old are you? Are you going to the school in this area?” With every question, she leaned closer, until their noses were practically touching. Jordan chuckled, somewhat sheepishly running his hands through his jet-black hair.

“Heh, I think I am. I dunno, my parents are really clumsy about the papers and such. How about you?” His eyes /glittered/, oh goodness.

“Oh, I am! I’m going there with my twin bro-“ Suddenly, her eyes glowed yellow, posture going rigid. When she spoke, her voice was no longer the cheery, goofy tone of good fun and cheer, but Bill’s metallic, snarky, all-knowing voice.

“I’m just going there with my twin brother,” Ma-Bill said, grinning. “Although, I’m surprised that they let me back this year. I mean, getting in seven fights a month tends to do a little damage to your record, right? But don’t let that scare ya away, blackie, I don’t bite hard. Unless you’re a police dog, that is. I showed those suckers who the alpha dog /really/ was, lemme tell ya. Just don’t get on my nerves, and we’ll be singing in harmony from here to Timbuktu!”

Jordan’s expression was slightly disturbed, to say the least. But, slowly, he smiled again, starting to back up. “Dude, that’s awesome! You don’t know how much it gets on my nerves, y’know, when girls won’t just punch some sucker for what they’re doing. I gotta get back home, but I’ll see ya on the flipside, yeah, tree-mate?”

Giving a playful salute, he turned, jogging off. Mabel’s eyes faded to normal, resuming into a horrified expression, that soon shifted its direction to glare at her sweater. “Bill! Why’d you SAY that? I might’ve had an actual CHANCE with him, ya dumbdumb, and now he thinks I’m some sort of MMA junior champion!”

“Oh, relax, kid,” Bill commented, soon popping from the sweater and glaring back at her. “It looks like the fellas here are different from the country honkies back home. I was /trying/ to push him away, the little brat. I don’t like his energy readings, they’re too . . . unpredictable. You need to stay off him, Shooting Star, for your own good. And mine, of course. Mine is more important.”

Mabel stuck her tongue out, and crossed her arms. “Oh, shut it! I’m going to be adorable, and cute, and funny, and strong, and I’ll blow his mind even /with/ you messing me up! So be /quiet/, buster, and lemme work my Mabel-Magic!”

“Pff, Mabel Schmabel, you’re ridiculous. I’ll do what I want, kid, and what I want is to get into Pine Tree’s journal. If I have to possess your body through yarn to do that, I will. So DON’T make me ANGRY!”

Mabel stepped back as his eye turned red, threatening, and angry. Maaaaybe she’d pressed a pressure point. Sighing, Mabel hung her head, hair forming a curtain around her face. “Sorry, Bill. Just, don’t cause too much trouble at school, please? I’ve got a crush riding on this!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, waving his hand. “I don’t care! I really don’t. But I’ll tell ya what, Shooting Star. You get me into Pine Tree’s journal, even just a peek, I’ll let you off with this one crush. Heck, I might even help ya!”

Oh no. She saw where this was going. Looking back, Mabel bit her lip. Dipper was probably waking up around now. Sighing, she nodded, but her mind was whirling with ways to reverse this god awful decision of hers.

“Fine. Agreed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Key: SWEATERTOWN  
> YEZE T FZZ VWAV PS TAI JPSWGWN QAG
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading! Please please please review, everybody! And if you have suggestions for the story, send them in, I might just add them!


	3. OLLP ULI GSV DIRHG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch dates aren't always what they're cracked up to be. Also, it's got to pay to be that hygienic, at least, if you're a triangular nightmare.

YROO'H MLG GSV LMOB LMV DSL'H DZGXSRMT  
ZOHL GSV PZIWZHSRZMH ZIV GSV HSRG

“Mabel, are you really sure that the vest looks okay?”

“Dipper, puh-lease, you totally rock that thing! You’re like, not even Dipper without it. That’s just weird, broseph.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Stop being a worry-wart on the face of self esteem, and just wear the freaking vest!”

This argument had been going on for an hour, by this point. Mabel frowned resolutely, arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping impatiently. Seriously, wasn’t SHE supposed to be the one stressing about first-day-of-school outfits? If she had a quarter for how many times Dipper had changed shirts, she’d be able to buy another bus ticket back to Gravity Falls. Wait, bus tickets didn’t cost that much. Cross that one off the list.

Resting on the bed, she stared at her indecisive brother, hands cupping her cheeks. From then on, all she muttered was an occasional ‘it looks FINE’ or ‘I’m pretty sure I knitted that like two years ago’, otherwise, she just stayed silent. But while she looked apathetic on the outside, on the inside, was an entirely different story.

Bill’s snarky, overconfident voice and presence was all too clear in her conscience, making offhand remarks about her knitting talents, humming strange, foreign tunes, or laughing /way/ too loudly at Dipper’s horrendous fashion choices. No matter what he said, it made Mabel grit her teeth, fingers digging into the sensitive, freckled skin of her cheeks. She was about to blow her top, by this point, if her brother hadn’t snapped her out of her frustrated, triangle-based reverie. 

“Hey, Mabel?” he questioned casually, seeming to have finally decided on a plain, red t-shirt. “I don’t remember you packing that sweater when we left Gravity Falls. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it or anything! But the symbol looks kinda like. . . well. . . you know who.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Oh, crap, red alert. Red alert! Mabel’s eyes widened, as she quickly searched for a viable excuse. “Eheh. . . Bro, you’re totally ackin’ cray-cray. You know that I’d /never/ embroider /Bill/ of all people onto a sweater! That’s freaking weird! Why would I do a thing like that, heh, you’re losing it. I’m not the weirdo, you’re the weirdo!”

‘Shooting Star, you’re quite possibly the worst liar ever.’ came Bill’s mental response. He gave an inaudible sigh, tutting his triangle tongue. ‘Why don’t you just tell Pine Tree, and get it over with? He’s a disturbingly smart kid on his own –you both are—and /I/ certainly wouldn’t want to endure his wrath, as noodly and limp as it may be!’

“Shut up, Bill!” Mabel hissed, but quickly covered her mouth. Dipper rose a brow, and tilted his head.

“Mabel . . . what did you just say?”

“Nothing, nothing, I said nothing!” She immediately snapped, waving her hands. “You didn’t hear anything, you just heard muttering, muttering that you shouldn’t care about! Look, we’re already late for school, dummy!”

She sprinted out the door, leaving a confused Dipper in her wake.

\----JXHVV ZKR UHDOOB KDWHV JHRPHWUB----

This sucked. This really, really sucked.

Mabel’s sigh echoed out against the white tiles, spreading on forever and ever, through the halls of the junior high school, echoing off every happy, cheerful, or even slightly enthusiastic student that wandered the school building. How dare they be happy? It was hard, being forced to wear a possessed sweater and deal with an omnipotent chip inside your head, it was hard, and nobody understood. 

No, no, bad Mabel. Why was she letting Bill get the best of her? What he wanted was the journal, right? Then, all she had to do was figure out a way to completely avoid it at all costs, and she’d be fine! What a perfect plan! And she wouldn’t even have to tell Dipper. She was smart, right? There wasn’t any reason that she couldn’t figure this out on her own. Yeah! Mabel, you’re a smart, independent woman, who don’t need no journal. You’ll be just fine.

So caught up was she in her sweater-clad wonderings that the small girl crashed into an adjacent passerby, and she soon heard the crashing of books to the ground. Oh, great, now look what you did Mabel, what a great way to start off introductions—oh, /my/.

“Jordan!” She squealed, instantly looping her arms around the pale boy’s neck. He gave a small yelp of surprise, but quickly gave that laugh that she so adored, and hugged her back. The moment was so joyous, so peaceful, so mind-blowingly romantic that Mabel was borderline shocked when both Dipper and Bill cleared their throats at the same time.

‘Eh-/hem/.’ Came from Bill.

“Ahem?” Came from Dipper.

Instantly, she pulled back, eyes wide with realization. Oh, this wasn’t going to be easy. Dipper looked at her questioningly, then at Jordan, with the slightest hint of a glare. Oh, geez. Dipper wasn’t getting to be one of those over-protective brothers, was he? Mabel HATED those!

Though, a quick flashback to his quick, sudden hug, those words that he never wanted anything to happen to her, his fear that Stan wasn’t there. . .and great, she felt guilty again. No wonder he was glaring—she’d just hugged some random guy, that he’d never had any sort of info on. Wow. 

“Mabel. . .” He started, grabbing her arm gently. “Can I talk to you real quick? By real quick, I mean not quick.” He stared blankly at the oblivious Jordan. “At /all/.”

‘Amen to that, Pine Tree.’ Bill replied, even though the male twin couldn’t possibly hear him. Mabel resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Dipper tugged her to the side, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Mabel, what the heck?” he hissed, “I thought you said you were going to do your best to /avoid/ irrational crushes this year. They’ve only ever gotten you in trouble! What if this guy gets too attached, hm? What if he winds up like Gideon? What if he’s got some sort of giant robot too? You never know, Mabel, and besides, do you /know/ how creeped out I’d be? He looks like some sort of Mini-Robbie, the more I stare at him. I don’t want you to date a Robbie, mini or not.”

“Ugh, Dipper, just calm DOWN already!” Mabel groaned, placing her hands on his cheeks. “I’ll be fine, bro-bro! I’m still that goofy, braces-covered, gummy loving sister of yours, and nothing’s going to change that, Robbie or not, giant robot or not. Besides, all those times that Stan wasn’t there, you got us out of it on your own, didn’t you? Have a confidence sticker, already!”

And onto his cheek was slapped a large, circular sticker, printed with the enthusiastic message of ‘Get ‘Em, Champ!’. Dipper processed this for a moment, before sighing, staring dead at her. “Mabel, how did you find the bag of stickers again.”

“I’ve got a sticker for that, too!”

“No, no! Okay, I won’t ask!”

The two laughed, until Jordan gave another clear of his throat. Turning back, Mabel shrugged, biting her lower lip. Man, it should be a shame for a boy to be this CUTE! “Oooh, sorry! This is my brother that I told you about, Dipper. See, he’s waving at you! Waving is a sign of friendliness. I think it’s so good you two like each other, it only means that we should get closer, so you two can like each other more. That’s how it works, right?”

Jordan shook his head with a smile, pushing back his dark bangs. “Yeah, I guess, tree-bud, if you wanna think of it like that. If he’s your brother, then he must be pretty rad. Nice to meet you, man.” He offered his hand, which Dipper promptly shook. His tight grip on Jordan’s hand slightly pulled on the boy’s arm, the sleeve shifting up to reveal a fraction of a red, curvy tattoo. 

With a curse that Mabel was fairly sure she wasn’t supposed to say, he jerked his hand back, swiftly covering the tattoo with an innocent smile. Oh, look at that smile, there’s no way he could be hiding anything, right? Bill had gone strangely silent within Mabel’s mind, but it wasn’t something she was about to question. Jordan looked up as the school bell rang, and seemed a tad too happy about having an excuse to go.

“Can I sit with you at lunch, Tree-pal?” He asked, giving a wave as he trotted off. Mabel barked out an overly-happy ‘yes’ as he left, her face overheating with embarrassment and admiration. Dipper still looked concerned, but less so, and shrugged it off. “C’mon, Mabel, we’ve gotta get to class. You can leave your crush of the week behind for at least a few hours, can’t you?”

\----BYGCLY JVY YQO SUZ----

One hour. One more hour, one more class, just one more period until lunch time.

Mabel practically squirmed in her seat, earning the amused, slightly exasperated sigh from her brother in the adjacent seat. Bill was still silent, something that somewhat worried her, but Mabel figured that even evil triangle overlords of the mindscape had to rest sometimes, right? Chewing on her pen, she raised her hand eagerly as the teacher turned, addressing the class with a question.

“Now, can any of you tell me just /where/ he got the nickname, ‘Old Hickory’?”

“I can, I can, sir!” She eagerly called. Ever since being named a member of congress, Mabel figured that she had to do her best to uphold the American political system the best she could, right? The teacher looked pleased, and nodded for her to continue. “Well, you see, it was actually because of his mean old attitude with—“

“Opossums!” Came Bill’s response, Mabel’s eyes now glowing a bright yellow. “Y’see, teach, the guy just /loved/ opossums. Don’t really know what his affinity for them came from myself, but hey. We’ve all got our preferences. If anything, I think he was really more of a squirrels guy. Then again, why are we really questioning a man’s love for fanged rodents, when the inevitability of death is sooner to loom upon us than any of us would really consider? Also, you should really be buying gold.”

The teacher, to be frank, looked absolutely horrified. “Miss Pines,” he muttered, frowning. “We’d all appreciate it if you left that silly attitude of yours in the previous school year, where it belongs.” Turning to ask another student, he ignored as Mabel looked down in shame, fists tightening in her triangle-printed sweater.

‘Aw, don’t sweat it, kid,’ Bill somewhat soothed from inside her mind, cackling, ‘That teach was stuck up anyway! I practically did you a favor, now you won’t be fooled into striving for the appreciation of someone who can’t even fully grasp a good joke about existentiality. A real shame, a real shame. Now would you stop looking at your lap? I’m getting tired of staring at your horrible job at painting nails.’

Don’t let him get to you, Mabel. Don’t. You’re better than this! Come on, didn’t you say you were going to fix this on your own, WITHOUT Dipper’s help? Speaking of Dipper. . .

He stared at Mabel with a small mix of horror and shock, hands clenched to his desk. Oh crap. Mabel nearly forgot—he’d also had firsthand experience, of what it looked like as a Bill possessee. Crap, crap, crap, now he KNEW! Mabel immediately avoided eye contact, until the class drew to an end.

.--- --- .-. -.. .- -. / .. ... / -. --- - / .-- .... .- - / .... . / ... . . -- ...

Mabel all but sprinted from the class, and Dipper followed suit, finally catching her in the hallway. “Mabel, Mabel!” He called, grabbing her shoulders. “Mabel, please please /please/ don’t tell me that I just saw and heard what I think I saw and heard. Please.” The look in his eyes was desperate, and before Mabel could console him, her posture went rigid, eyes shining once more. 

“Ha, nice to see ya again, Pine Tree!” Bill greeted, grinning widely. “Since I’m not too keen on having any more scamps ruin my plans, let’s take this outside, shall we?” In a second, he’d warped the world around them, pushing the siblings into the courtyard, just behind the school building. Dipper looked around wildly, then turned, clenching his fists. 

“What did you do to my sister, Bill?” He yelled, trying to resist the urge to grab his sister by the shoulders, and slap the demon out of her. “I thought you couldn’t leave Gravity Falls? Get out of her right now! Is that why she won’t take off this stupid sweater?”

Bill cackled again, moving Mabel’s body to fabulously flip her hair. “No-can-do, kid, I’ve got a lot riding on this particularly lovely host. At least your sister smells better than you did. And she’s got a WAY higher pain tolerance, too. You’re really a wimp, you know? It’s kinda pathetic! But that’s not my point right now.”

The world around them stopped, shifting to gray. MaBill tilted her head, hands folded behind her back. “I still want that journal, Pine Tree. Just as well, there’s some stuff in this place that I’d /love/ to mess with! Your sister being one of them, but I suppose that’s more of a long-term treat. If you’d just hand over that journal, though, I /might/ consider letting go of the much more hygienic Pines sibling.”

“No freaking way!” Dipper yelled, eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ll do anything, but please don’t hurt her any more. Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have taken that journal with me! This is all my fault, it’s my fault she got possessed, my fault she lost concentration, my fault you were able to travel up here!” Pounding on his skull with his own fists, Dipper grunted, plopping into the ground.

MaBill sighed. “Kid, you’re even making /me/ depressed. So depressed, even, I’ll make you a deal. Do a bit of my dirty work, and I’ll let your sister have it easy. That kid, Jordan, whatever his name is. I want you to befriend him.” He grinned cheekily, placing Mabel’s hands on her hips. “He’s got a few tricks up his sleeves, he does, and I’d /very/ much like to know them.”

Dipper looked up, with the chance of getting his sister back. “It’s a deal.” He immediately responded, rising up. Bill, slightly surprised with the boy’s immediate decision, took a while to respond. But eventually, he smirked, shaking Dipper’s hand. “I like it, kid! I like it very, very much. Now, didn’t we have a lunch date?

12-9-19-20-5-14 6-15-18 20-8-5 19-15-21-14-4-19 15-6 16-18-5-20-5-5-14 4-5-16-18-5-19-19-9-15-14

“Oh, hey guys!” Jordan greeted as Mabel and Dipper approached the table. Mabel wore a cheery expression, as usual, though the lack of wrinkles around her eyes hinted at its fakeness. Dipper didn’t even bother, and fixed Jordan with a cold stare before morphing into an all-too-friendly grin.

“Hey man!” He greeted back, sitting at the table next to him, motioning for Mabel to do the same. The girl sat down gingerly, and her smile widened, as she gazed upon Jordan’s beautiful, shiny hair. Gosh, why was he so /pretty/? It almost made Mabel feel insecure about her own girlish beauty. Jordan winked, and frankly, she wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean.

“Man, this food is way better than my old school. The cornbread, man? It was like a freaking sponge, I squeezed it, and it just folded back. Like, cornbread is not supposed to do that.” Shuddering, he took a bite out of his food. Mabel gave a loud laugh at his comment, slapping her hand on the table.

“Oh man, that is so /funny/! I ate a sponge once, you know.” Immediately, she regretted her decision. Why did she say that? Why? Why? Why? “Eheh, I mean, it tasted like a sponge. I’m not entirely sure what substance it was.” Oh, like THAT was any better.

Jordan snickered nonetheless. “Dude, I’m not even that brave. I /wish/ I could just eat anything, maybe then I wouldn’t be so skinny. Dipper, man, you’ve got muscle. Tell a guy what it’s like, because I’m not findin’ out any time soon.” Dipper’s eyes practically shined, his lips parting in an ‘o’ of shock.

“You. . . think I have muscle?”

“Well, yeah, bro!” He agreed enthusiastically, “If it doesn’t sound weird, that is, I mean. You totally look like you could beat me in an arm wrestle, it’s kinda freaky. Tree-buddy, does he like, lift weights all the time or something? I need some /tips/.”

Mabel and Dipper turned to each other, both wearing identical, wide grins.

This guy was great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IVZORGB RH Z ORV ZMW HL ZIV XOZD GLB TZNVH
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd really, really, really appreciate some reviews!


	4. "R'N IVHKLMHRYOV DRGS HXRHHLIH" ZMW LGSVI ORVH R GVOO NBHVOU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's not many things that will harm the mysterious Dream Demon, but the answer will come in the most unlikely of places.

“Shooting Star, I’m not terribly sure that’s a good idea.”

“Oh yeah? Well /I’m/ not too sure that your /face/ is a good idea, stink breath.”

Bill grumbled, floating around the brunette in constant, glowing circles. The main part of him was frustrated that his host wasn’t currently trembling in fear from his very presence, and instead choosing to check herself out in the mirror for, what, the past thirty minutes? A pile of discarded headbands lay in the corner, and as of the moment, the possessee was fitting yet another sparkly monstrosity to her scalp. 

However, there /was/ one part of him, slightly pleased that he didn’t have to focus on ‘consoling’ his subject away from her initial nervousness, and just get her to /relax/ already. It wasn’t that the dream demon was necessarily concerned about his host, but it did get a bit annoying when her mind was a constant scape of jitters, yarn, fear, and electrically colorful synthesized young men. Ugh. He /really/ didn’t want to encounter that experience again.

But this was getting positively ridiculous. How long did Shooting Star need to practice pick-up-lines, anyways? All of them sounded terrible, in his opinion, and there wasn’t any point in trying to salvage what little talent lay in those terrible, terrible flirtations. And something about them pissed him off, as well. Just. . .well, something. 

“Listen, toots,” Bill added, floating in front of the posing adolescent. “If there’s anything I know from watching human mating rituals, it’s that you’re doing it all completely wrong. I’m not going to tell you how to do it right, cause I just don’t feel like it. But you’re doing it wrong.” He shrugged, closing his eye. “/I’d/ fully recommend letting me possess you again, so that I can try one of those human sodas. I got it all in Pine Tree’s eyes last time, and it wasn’t exactly as sensational as I’d hoped.”

It took a full minute for Mabel to turn around, and blink blankly at the floating shape. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” She gave a goofy grin, sticking out her tongue. “I totally wasn’t listening.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Yeesh, kid, I’m not even gonna bother at this point. Go ahead, engage in your idiotic fliration techniques, but don’t come cryin’ to me when he drops you like those last couple of pounds last week. He wasn’t lying—kid is /seriously/ thin.”

Mabel turned back around, and once again, attempted to tug the sweater off her body. It flashed multiple times, glued to her skin, resulting in the girl sighing exasperatedly and flopping on her bed. “UGH. Listen, you weirdo geometry nightmare, could you just shut up for, like, one minute? It’s bad enough that you don’t leave me alone, but now you’re starting to creep my brother out, too.” She stuck her tongue out. “Ever since the first day of school, he’s always been really. . . weird. Like, weirder than normal, and he’s always asking how I feel.” She suddenly gasped, and flipped up, eyes wide with realization. “You didn’t. . .”

Bill sighed. Well, this was going to come sooner or later, right? At least he could trust that Pine Tree didn’t tell Shooting Star anything. Kid’s too clever for her own good, he figured. “Well, kid, I guess it /is/ time to come clean about the little deal I made with your brother. Y’see, he was just so /pushy/ about it and—“

“I can’t believe you!” She yelled, standing on her bed and jabbing her finger into the demon’s bowtie. Bill looked offended. “Out of all the things you could’ve done, you made him into a. . .a. . .”

“Go on, say it, Shooting Star. Admittance helps with the shock.”

“A . . .therapist?”

“Ha! See, how good it feels to finally—wait, what?”

Mabel hopped off her bed, pacing back and forth. “I get it! So THAT’S why he’s been asking me all those weird questions! You probably tried to punish him by turning him into the one thing that he’s always been TERRIBLE at—reading other’s emotions! Geez, Bill, you really /are/ evil!” Puffing her cheeks out, she folded her arms against the plush, yellow-brick printed pattern of her sweater, as Bill looked on, expressing a rare emotion of pure, unadulterated shock.

“Uh, Shooting Star, that’s not exactly what I—“

“Mabel! You gotta hide me!”

The door flew open, revealing the panting, sweating, limp form of Pine Tree himself. Darting in, he shut the door, proceeding to dart underneath his sister’s bed. Mabel yelped, but peeked under, raising a brow.

“Yo, bro bro, what’s the dealio? Somethin’ up in Weirdoville? Were you impeached as the mayor, or something?” Mabel asked, hanging upside down, staring at her shaking sibling. The only response she got was a moan of unease as the door started pounding, and she swore, she heard the dragging of claws down against the wood. Her eyes widened. “Dipper, what did you do THIS time?”

“I-I don’t know!” He yelled, peeking out. “I was walking in the backyard, reading in the journal, and it just popped out! I didn’t see any pages on it or anything, but that doesn’t really matter right now, does it? Please tell me it doesn’t!” Pressing against the wall, he tightened his lips, and Mabel immediately set her mind in a whirl. What should she do? She couldn’t let her parents discover that thing in the house, who knows when they’d be back from work?

“Bill!” She yelled, looking up, “You’re some kinda all-knowing crazy dude, yeah?”

“I slightly resent that, but sure!”

“I don’t CARE if you slightly resent it; just get whatever it is away from us! Like, I don’t know, make a trap, put it outside, lead it into the woods or something? I’ve never had to deal with a situation like this!” Mabel tugged at her hair, pacing up and down the room. Bill only gave a scoff in response, acting as if he was inspecting his nails, when in fact he had none. 

“Shooting Star, not to toot your horn or anything, but you seemed just fine when I threatened your uncle with imminent insanity in the mindscape, what’s a little demon going to do to you? Go ahead, get scratched up a little bit, it might make you less unbearably shiny.” He sat back, fully content to do nothing. This only earned a growl of distaste from Mabel, who jumped at the pounding of the door.

“What use are you if you don’t DO stuff for us, geez!” She yelled, shooting him a glare before cautiously tiptoeing to the door. Her small fingers grasped it, then pulled it open, her lips letting out a shriek as the thing darted inside. It looked like a hellish combination of a wolf and a cobra, fangs dripping with venom and skin rippling with scaled-over muscles. Immediately, Mabel leaped on the creature as it made a dart for the hiding Dipper, and wrapped her arms around its neck.

It howled in surprise, but Mabel held tight, Bill now watching with much more interest. Damn, he knew that the elder Pines twin was brave, sure, but he supposed he’d underestimated the girl’s actual strength. If he had a mouth, it would’ve split into a grin, just at the sight of Shooting Star tackling the beast to the ground. Holy crap, was she even punching it now? Damn. Blinking, Bill floated up, crossing his arms and looking down as Dipper sheepishly crawled from the bed.

For a few minutes, it almost seemed as if Mabel had the control, the creature writhing as her twelve-year-old hands pressed down on the esophagus. But the creature suddenly flipped, tossing the girl to the ground, paws pinning her shoulders down. Dipper gave a yell of concern, leaping over, assuming Mabel’s previously held position of a chokehold.

“Let! Go! Of! My! Sister!” With every word came another punch, the boy’s teeth gritted in determination. By now, Bill was /really/ interested, and slightly confused on who he wanted to root for. Pine Tree, or the monster? Decisions, decisions. Mabel’s slight whimper of pain snapped him from his train of thought, his eye slightly widening at the paw shifting to place on her throat. 

And Pine Tree hadn’t even noticed? Wow, what a caring brother. Sighing, Bill floated down, eye suddenly stretching wide, glowing a bright, vibrant red. The creature froze instantly, and whined, backing off and collapsing into a shivering, frightened, whimpering pile of cobra dog. Mabel coughed, leaning onto Dipper as he clutched her protectively.

“Yeesh, you two, you really need to learn to fight. Man, I haven’t seen one of these things in /ages/, where’d ya find him, Pine Tree? Looks like one of the things I was summoned to sick on an unfortunate stock broker circa 1932.” He placed his hands on his waist, leaning over. “Seriously, kid, how’d you wind up dragging him all the way back here?”

“I didn’t do it on /purpose/,” Dipper muttered, patting Mabel’s arm before standing up. “I was just walking around in the backyard, reading from the journal, and it attacked me and I dropped it. Like, it looked like it just materialized out of /nowhere/.”

“Huh. . . “ Bill muttered, then turned. “Kid,” He asked as casually as he could, “Where exactly did it attack you, did you say?” It was strange, to see the demon look so casual, so unplotting, so nonchalantly innocent that Dipper answered without a second thought as he helped his sister up.

“In the backyard, right near the woods, why- OH NO NO NO!” He broke into a yell immediately as Bill disappeared with a cheery wave. “Mabel,” Dipper said, turning around, “He’s going to get the journal! You’re the one with his sweater, do something!” 

“Uh. . . uh. . . “ Crap, what could she do? Mabel stuttered in shock, stumbling around for a tool, a weapon, /anything/ to use against him. Sewing supplies? No. Knitting needles? No. Spare gnome hair? NO, and why did she even still HAVE that laying around? As she searched, ignoring Dipper’s moanings, her hand scraped across a pair of open scissors. The blade scraped across her palm as well as the sleeve of her sweater, and shortly after Mabel’s hiss of pain, Bill appeared, and promptly fell to the ground with an exclamation of shock.

“Woah, woah woah! That smarts, and not in a funny way, either!” He yelled, hands pressed over a large gash in his triangular body. It poured out black blood, dripping quietly onto the wooden floor. Mabel’s and Dipper’s eyes both widened, staring at the injured demon. 

“Woah. . . “ Mabel whispered. “So there IS a way to harm you! Dipper, we figured it out!” The twins cheered, dancing around as Bill narrowed his eye at them.

“Laugh it up, you little mongrels, but this isn’t anything that’ll hold me down. Remember, a being of pure energy with no weakness whatsoe- ow, ow, ow, Shooting Star, quit that!” He yelped as Mabel pinched her sleeve, a wide, braces-filled, cheek splitting grin on her face.

“Oh, I’m going to have a /lot/ of fun with this.”

6-1-19-8-9-15-14 16-15-12-9-3-5 8-1-19 1 23-8-15-12-5 14-5-23 13-5-1-14-9-14-7

“Damn it!” Came the curse of the hooded figure, his hand slamming down on the side of the platform. “Damn it, damn it, damn it, you idiot. Why couldn’t you just bite the damn kid, huh? Why couldn’t you?” The figure sighed, shutting the portal closed and plopping back into the comfort of his leather sofa.

“I’ll get that journal, and that demon, too,” He quietly hissed, hands clenched into a fist. “I’ll not fail again. . . not this time, not ever again. I swear on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to all who've subscribed, and who've given me kudos so far. Please review?
> 
> HMRK HMRK NLGSVIUFXPVI


	5. 1 3-18-21-19-8-9-14-7 4-5-2-1-20-5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan isn't all that he seems. Neither is Bill. Neither is Mabel. Also, Dipper's sick.

Her breath carried across the school courtyard, and if she squinted, she swore she saw the beginnings of fog puffing around. It was certainly cold enough, that’s for sure. For once, Mabel was somewhat grateful that Bill’s possessed sweater was one of her warmest ones, but by the time that summer came around, she knew that her gratitude wouldn’t last for a minute.

“Bill,” She muttered, folding her arms around herself as she sat, alone on the playground bench seat. “I’m curious. Like, really curious. How old are you?” She couldn’t keep her eyes from flickering to the spot next to her, halfway expecting her brother to be sitting there, a grin on his face and a curious glint in his eyes. But no. Dipper had been sick today, struck down with an early fall flu. She still remembered him protesting that he was ‘just FINE mom, geez’, even through wobbling legs and a soaring temperature. The silly boy, really.

Bill chuckled. “You know, I’ve lost track by this point, kid. Soaring in an existentially disregarding mindscape and gaining complete control over the sheep you call humans tends to not work wonders with your track of time. I suppose that I’m around, oh, five hundred and something. I don’t really care, to be honest, Shooting Star!” He finished with a cackle, and Mabel even gave a small giggle of her own. She returned to her previous position—her chin resting in her hands, fingers idly tapping against her nearly frostbitten cheeks. She wasn’t /supposed/ to be this cold, was she?

“You seem like an old fart, anyways.” She muttered, which earned her a slight jolt up her spine from said fart. Bill gave a small mumble, something about cold, ungrateful little girls, sending Mabel into a fit of girlish, hysteric giggles. Seriously, how butthurt was he going to BE? Some people just couldn’t get over simple insults, though she briefly wondered if it was wise to be casually insulting the demon that attempted mental murder on her own great uncle. Oh well. He’d get over it, right?

“Hey, what’s so funny, tree-bud?” Came a questioning tone, one underlined with both amusement and just a hint of genuine curiosity. Mabel whipped around, eyes wide. Her grin split across her cheeks, braces glinting in the light. 

“Jordan!” Mabel yelled, leaping up and purposefully ignoring Bill’s mutterings of ‘oh great, this guy again’. The butthurt was strong with this one, it seemed. Blowing her bangs from her face, she slapped on her cheeriest grin, tilting her head. “Hey, man! What’s kicking? What’s spelunking in that lil’ old Oak Tree, hm? Oooh, lemme guess,” Her hands plastered onto his freezing forehead, so unlike Dipper’s burning one. “Hmm. . .ooh, Mabel’s sensing some uuuuuuber cool something that you should tell her right now! What is it? C’moooooon, you know you wanna.”

Her eyes crinkled with her smile, and she swore (or maybe just WANTED to swear) that Jordan’s cheeks turned pink. Maybe it was just frostbite. Jordan laughed, waving her hands away. “Heh, I /wish/, like seriously. But nah, I couldn’t tell you anything particularly interesting. I /did/ have a question I wanted to ask you, though.” Instantly, his eyes lost their joking glitter, and shifted to something. . . darker. Mabel internally squealed. 

“Yes? What is it, Jordan? I’ll listen to /anything/.” Maybe she stressed the ‘anything’ too much. Nah. 

“Suck up.” Bill muttered, his tone somewhat un-enthusiastic. 

“Well. . .” Jordan bit his lip, giving half a smile, something that made Mabel’s heart beat erratically. “I just wanted to as you, if you could, well. . . .”

“Oh, come on, kid!” Bill shouted, but Mabel did her best to quiet him down, leaning forward with earnest. 

“If I could what, Jordan? Come on, you can tell me!”

“If you could. . . tell me where you got that sweater?”

Before Mabel’s disappointment could even process, she felt a chill colder than the weather take over her body, and suddenly, she was in the mindscape, staring as her eyes turned yellow and Bill’s unsatisfied glare took over her features. Her mouth went agape in horror. No, no, no! Not now, anytime but now!

“You may /not/.” Bill responded, and Mabel found it slightly odd, how much of his usual snark and sarcasm that’d been dropped. Bill narrowed her eyes, and Mabel swore she could see the hints of a lip-curling disgust pull at her mouth. What was UP with him? Floating closer in curiosity, she tilted her head, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry!” Jordan immediately responded, laughing easily. “It’s just that the pattern is really cool and all, and Dipper told me you make your own sweaters, and I was just—“

“But I’ll make you a deal, blackie.” Bill cut him off, suddenly grinning maliciously. “I’ve noticed a particularly interesting tattoo on your wrist, there. Oops, marking, birthmark, whatever. There’s no way a kid your- OUR age would have a tattoo right? Right.” He winked at the dreamscape Mabel, who just frowned in return. She was going to be SO peeved if he was better at flirting with Jordan than SHE was.

“I, uh. . . “ Now, Jordan seemed nervous. Pale. Jittery. Mabel’s curiosity was struck as she flew closer to the nervously twitching boy. What had him so uppity? “I don’t really know if that’s a good idea. I mean, my, uh, my dad might get mad and everything and I-“

“What’s the matter, kid?” Bill pressed closer, looping Mabel’s arm around Jordan’s neck. “You nervous? Somethin’ biting at ya? Oh, I bet I know what it is, are you HIDING something?” He leered. “You are, aren’t you. It’s alright. I hide a lot of stuff too, it’s only /human/ nature. And we’re both humans in this situation, right?”

Jordan was almost sweating. Why would he be sweating? This was freezing weather, he had no reason to be sweating. Mabel was getting worried. Her teeth chomped down on her lower lip, hands balled near her chin. “Bill, stop it! You’re creeping him out, seriously! Get out of my body already!” Her shouting was useless, of course. What else would it be?

“C’mon, kid. . . “ Mabel’s eyes flashed a bright yellow, and the hand clutching Jordan’s shoulder tightened until the knuckles were white. “Give it up. You hiding, or what? Watcha hiding from?”

“Look, Mabel, just stop it!” He suddenly yelled, pushing the girl away, the body wobbling over and hitting the ground with a soft thud. Jordan promptly sprinted away, turning the corner of the school building and disappearing from sight. Casting a glance down at her possessed body, Mabel frowned, floating down in front of it with a stern pout to her lips. 

“You total wackjob!” She yelled, hands balled into fists. “I was trying to /impress/ him, what purpose was there in ruining it with your weirdo-psychic junk, huh?” Even in her mindscape, non-existent state, Mabel could feel her throat tighten, and eyes begin to water. “I really /liked/ him, too! What’s your problem? I know you’re a jerkface, but you’re an even bigger one than usual when he’s around! I hate you, Bill! Just go away, leave me alone for once!” Her hands pushed across her face, wiping off the tears that were dripping down her cheeks. “Just bug off!”

Bill was quiet for the longest time, staring Mabel down with an unreadable expression, but if she looked closely, she’d almost detect traces of pure shock in his/her eyes. Slowly, he rose, tilting his chin in haughty defiance. “You’ll have to do better than that, Shooting Star!” His grin stretched wide, but not as wide as usual, as he lightly tapped her chin. His finger may have phased directly through her chin, but she still felt odd warmth, pooling around her skin.

“That hurts, kid, it really does.” He laid a hand over her heart. “But here’s a thing you should consider! I /control/ you, and your brother, and as of my arrival here, everybody in the vicinity. You’re ALL my puppets now, and if I feel like ruining your chances with blackie back there, then I’ll very well do so! How about that? But don’t be sad, kid.” He chuckled, tilting her head. “I’ll be there for you. Watching, waiting, for when the Pines siblings fully submit to this puppet master once and for all! So just consider it, Shooting Star. Wouldn’t want your light to dimmer too much, now would we?”

He stepped back, eyes beginning to fade from the yellow. “Oh, and one more thing, Shooting Star—you belong to me. You, and your brother. Just keep that in mind next time you want another screaming fest. Just because you hurt me with scissors, doesn’t mean that I can’t hurt you with a kitchen knife. Or, you can’t hurt ‘yourself’, if you think about it.”

Mabel felt a pull back to her body, and slipped back inside, her mind both whirling from the mindscape and Bill’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B KPIAQ USJDRR AW QMH RBTEGNXAVV JGV X RPVTVR EPEJ OCH  
> Password: TRIANGLESARESEXY
> 
> Sorry the chapter's so short! Please please review!


	6. 13-9-14-9 18-15-2-2-9-5 9-19 1 13-9-14-9 8-15-20-20-9-5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, we all need a hug.

Something was up with Mabel.

It’d started at exactly 5:32 in the afternoon, on a peaceful weekend off, usually spent in blissful, childish, twin-filled pleasure of mini golf and video games. There wasn’t a reason that anything should’ve been /off/, exactly, even if the omnipotent piece of geometry that inhabited his sister’s sweater didn’t see fit to give them a day alone. Things should’ve gone normally, right? Right?

The first thing he noticed was the look in Mabel’s eyes. It was downcast, almost submissive, increasing every time she glanced down at her sweater. One thing that confused Dipper was the fact that she wasn’t taking advantage of harming the sweater itself to harm Bill, but he quickly reasoned the fact that Bill would probably harm them a heck of a lot worse if they even attempted it. Besides, Mabel wasn’t usually that violent.

So, the question remained—what was up with his sister?

The brunette frowned, staring from the back of the porch, to the older twin, talking to herself amongst the flowers and . . . Mabel, that’s not how you water plants. It really isn’t. Sighing with an amused smile, Dipper rose, trotting over beside her. “Yo, Mabel, I don’t really know what you’re doing, but gardening is not it.”

“Oh, hush it!” She retorted, even though her grin was almost as wide as it was normally. “You’ve just got /no/ concept of junior planting entrepreneurship. This is scientific improvement, Dipper! You’re interrupting a genius in her home environment!”

“Sure, whatever you say. Just don’t, like, hurt yourself with the gardening clippers. Dad’s gonna get mad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, relishing in this strangely rare, as of late, opportunity to see his sister happy. Granted, having Bill involved in ANY situation wasn’t going to cheer someone up, but Mabel was stronger than this! This wasn’t one mystery that he was extremely keen on solving. 

He shot a look to her sweater. He couldn’t talk to her right now, not about what he wanted to.

Dipper’s mind darted back to the mini-Robbie on the first day, that weird tattoo on his wrist, the shady (and kinda shiny) look in his eyes, and the way that he spoke that hinted he wasn’t telling the complete truth. It threw Dipper off, more than he’d like to admit. Especially the way that Jordan stared at Mabel’s sweater, like it was going to eat him alive, like . . .he knew.

Dipper shook it off. He really /had/ been reading that journal too much.

\----GLSSHU'V DOOHUJLF WR RDN WUHHV----

TIME: 2:10 A.M.

The Dreamscape was honestly boring.

Sure, Bill may have been able to manifest whatever he’d like in this gray, twisted world, such as lovers from past centuries, enemies that he’d love to relive destroying, or odd puzzles to crack, but all of that got old after a while. The triangle could assume any form that he’d like, even, but it never really served to compliment his true personality as much as the simplistic shape that he was so very, very fond of. 

Shooting Star was resting peacefully, and he frankly wasn’t in the mood to endure her backwards arguments on the theory of muffins just now. Sheesh, somebody needed to /seriously/ control that kid’s sugar intake, it was terrifying even to /him/. 

Wandering through the grayscaled forests, Bill hummed idly, stretching his arms behind his back. Shooting Star’s memories were an interesting place to be, nevertheless—even if the kid was overly honest about everything. Her honesty in itself was /almost/ endearing, if he squinted. There was just something slightly funny about almost every one of her memories that involved even a /minor/ lie, ending up in her spilling the truth sooner or later. Seriously, lying was one of the things he loved /most/ about humanity was their innate ability to lie. And /his/ innate ability to pick up on their lies.

He passed an idle memory of Mabel’s misadventures with that blasted pig, and would’ve continued on—had he not caught sight of an odd glimpse from the corner of his eye. It shifted, like a shadow, and darted when Bill turned to look.

What a stupid little fool, Bill thought, chuckling. In an instant, the world had turned red, and his laughter resided over all. “Come on out! I can see you, you little rascal!” 

A few seconds later, the shape emerged from the trees, in the shape of. . . . oh. Well. 

This was interesting.

“Well, well, well,” Bill replied, eye going wide with excitement, “The Oak Tree in the Pine Tree’s mind, how about that? I wouldn’t have expected this little shrimp to show up in his girlfriend’s brain, and I can’t say I’m too happy about it either. Then again, I might be even more upset if you were actually human. I knew there was something off about you!” 

The kid looked irritated—that much was obvious. He frowned, and gave a glare darker than any twelve year old should ever be able to give. Hah, if Shooting Star could see this now, she’d be off this little jackass for the rest of her life, a thought that made Bill oddly satisfied.

“Tell me, kid,” He leaned on his shoulder, “What are you, really? And what’re you doing in the girl’s mind, eh? I’m getting the hint that it’s not for flirting tips. Am I right? Admit it, I’m totally right.”

“I’ve come to make a deal, Cipher.” When Jordan spoke, it wasn’t with his normal adolescent voice, but with a whisper, a demonic sort of whisper that would’ve sent chills up Bill’s spine, if he had one to begin with. Non-skeletal frames are fun, kids!

“Oooooh, a deal, you say?” Bill’s eye tinted blue in excitement. “This is a pretty interesting encounter, and I might just agree with you due to your style. I like it, buddy. What’re you proposing?” He looped his arm around the kid’s neck.

“The sibling of your host possesses a journal, that I’m terribly keen on giving a read.” Jordan grinned, dark eyes glittering. “I’d appreciate it if you lent me a hand on the matter. We both have a vested interest in it, yes?” His hands dug into his pockets. “And I’m prepared to compensate. If you help me with the journal, I can give you all the human hosts and minds you’d ever want, all underneath your powers and control.”

It was an instant “No.”

“I’ve worked too long to give it up now, kid,” Bill rose up, crossing his arms over his triangular chest. He didn’t like the sudden intake of overly negative energy that he was emitting. It was strange, and unpredictable, and for one of the few times in his life, Bill felt that something was seriously, seriously wrong. Jordan only chuckled, and shrugged, fingers idly toying with the edge of one of Mabel’s non-pig based memories.

“If you insist, I’m not an arguing man. Mabel’s going to be mighty disappointed, however, when she finds out that her crush has mysteriously transferred.”

“I won’t be.”

“That much is apparent.” Jordan sneered, jerking his hand back. “We’ll talk this over later, Cipher. I don’t think you realize the depth of your situation.

And just like that, he faded away, the dreamscape returning to the calm, normal, happy grey that it once was.

\----ERWK OLIH DQG UHDOLWB DUH DQ LOOXVLRQ VR ZKB YLHZ GHDWK DV D PRUELG FRQFOXVLRQ----

The alarm blared loudly, queuing Mabel’s hand to slap fiercely on the button above. She rose from her bed quickly, and stretched, running her hands through her poofy, messy hair. “Wakey wakey, Dipper!” She called, hopping out. “It’s a new day, new time to shine!”

“It’s a new time to wake up, more like,” He mumbled, rolling over. “Mabel, it’s an hour earlier than you normally get up. Go back to sleeeeeeep.”

“Naw,” She responded, waving her hand, “I’m gonna have myself a nice breakfast, and /you’re/ going to miss out on every bite.” She giggled with glee, starting her way to rush down the stairs. Bill immediately popped from her sweater, warping the world around them and leaning into the surprised adolescent. 

“Shooting Star, we’re gonna have a little talk.” Mabel’s eyes widened. What was this about? Sure, he HAD been oddly dormant for the past few days, but she just assumed he was resting. Biting her lip, she looked back at the still-sleepy Dipper, and reluctantly nodded at Bill, who, in her opinion, looked a tad more serious than usual.

“Kid, you’ve gotta stop looking like a beaten pup, honestly, I’m not /that/ bad to be around. Just hear me out, okay?” Leaning down, he looped his arm around her. “That kid, Jordan. I’ll be completely honest with ya, he’s a—“ He stopped, suddenly, seeming to realize something. But what? What could Bill possibly have to say about Jordan, that was relevant in any way?

“Yes?” She questioned curiously.

“Nothing.” Bill responded. “Point is, he’s bad news, and I’m saying this in consideration for your own good health. Shooting Star, I’ve got an idea about you. How about we play a game?” His eye crinkled in supposed glee, while Mabel’s narrowed in suspicion. 

“I dunno. . . last time you mentioned a game, or anything like it, you almost got me and Dip killed!” She placed her hands stubbornly on her hips, puffing her cheeks out in frustration. Bill only laughed.

“Re-lax, kid, I’ve got it all planned out! Here’s what you’re going to do—you’re gonna be my assistant for a while. Don’t /look/ at me like that, I’ve already told you! I just need you to do some favors for me. Watch that Jordan kid—yes, yes I know, you already do that /finely/.” He rolled his eye. “Yeesh. Girls. Then, I need you to report back to me anything strange you see. Nothing about how dreamy his eyes are or about his smooth voice, I’m sick of hearing that in your mind.” He sighed.

Mabel pursed her lips. Well. . . . there really wasn’t any damage in that, was there? Naw. It’d be fine. And if she thought anything was too odd, she could just lie! Well, try to, at least.

“Sure!” She agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll watch him for you, Bill!”

“Wow, that was. . . .easier than expected.” He blinked. “Okay! Good going, Shooting Star, you’re marking up just fine.” He patted her shoulder, but gave a surprised yelp when he was suddenly tugged into a hug!

“Stop body-squeezing me, kid! If this is a defense mechanism, it’s /extremely/ idiotic!” 

“It’s called a hug, dumbo.” Mabel responded, laughing. If she warmed up to him, maybe he’d spill some secrets? And then she’d be able to defeat him! Or, well, something like that. Point was, being nice to someone never got you on their bad side, that much was for certain. And frankly, she did NOT want to keep on Bill’s bad side.

“A. . .a hug.”

“Yep!”

She didn’t hear any muttered sarcastic remarks, or curses, or anything, really. Did that mean it was going well? It was total silence, and when Mabel pulled back, she spotted a hint of blue radiating from his hands and underneath his eye. Was that a blush? No. It couldn’t have been. Why would a triangle demon be blushing because of a hug?

“I’ll be back.” Bill quickly excused, disappearing without a trace, and leaving Mabel to tilt her head, shrug, and return to her pancake adventure. 

What a weird guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VWLFNV DQG VWRQHV PDB EUHDN PB ERQHV  
> FXUVHV DQG VSHOOV GRQ'W PDNH PH ZHOO  
> VLQJ SUDLVHV RI PB HDUWKOB GZHOOLQJV  
> DQG WR BRXU PHUFB L PLJKW EH VR FRPSHOOLQJ
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please review!


	7. SV IRHVH ZMW DROO MLG UZOO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He rises. He will walk the earth once more, the living mystery, the humanoid puzzle piece that could never fit anywhere, the last ticking question that nobody is able to solve. He is here. He is with us. 
> 
> And he isn't going to leave.

She supposed that there might’ve actually been a /limit/ on the syrup-to-pancake ratio.

Even so, she would not be contained.

“Three. . .”

“Two. . .”

“One. . .”

“Syrup race!” Came Mabel’s victorious shout, her hand eagerly squeezing the easily manipulated plastic of the brownish bottle. Dipper’s fingers were equally flexed, both young faces scrunching into tight masks of concentration while their parents chuckled in the distance. The race was harsh, gritty, and just about as bloodthirsty as syrup races could come. Mabel’s stream of sugary goodness drooped precociously from the bottle, hardly taking the encouragement from its brunette host. Dipper’s own rusty prize was dropping at an alarmingly swift acceleration, only going faster, and faster, and faster, until it danced upon the young boy’s tongue in victory.

Mabel frowned in defeat, and slammed her bottle down with vigor similar to that of a hardy drunkard asking for another drink at the local bar, her hand wiping across her mouth despite nothing being there in the first place. “It’s just life, buddy,” She whispered dramatically, casting her gaze into the sunlit distance, or, in this case, the kitchen all and embarrassingly large collection of twin-filled baby photos and various Halloween misadventures. Dipper rose a brow, once he’d finished his victory chug of maple syrup.

“Mabel? Could you maybe /not/ give such a gritty look to our baby pictures? It’s really vague and really disturbing.” His voice didn’t really hold any concern, though, only good fun, the most ‘good fun’ that they’d had in a while. Mabel turned, and could barely keep her grin form her face for more than five seconds, her braces glinting in the light as she giggled. Dipper smiled, and his shoulders seemed to sag with relief. Why, though, she couldn’t be entirely sure. 

“Okay, you two,” Came the gruff voice of their father, standing from the breakfast table and pulling the two kids from their chairs. They both laughed and agreed, though as Dipper ran to grab his schoolbag, Mabel’s arm was caught by the gentle hand of her mother. 

She crouched down to be eye level with the young girl, brows knitting together. “Mabel,” She asked, tilting her head, “You’ve worn that sweater for a full week, darling, don’t you want to take it off? I understand that it may be one of your favorites, but. . . . “

Oh no. Oh freaking no. Mabel paled, but before she could answer, she felt her body go rigid and her soul yanked from its container. As she gazed to her body, now possessed by Bill, she could only hope that whatever he said wasn’t /too/ damaging. Biting her nails as she watched, Mabel floated closer, almost hiding her eyes as she listened to the conversation.

“Don’t worry about it, mother dearest!” Bill announced, posture still straight, leaned back, looking as inhuman as possible. Sheesh, you’d think he’d have learned to stand by now. He laughed, flipping his/her hair. “I fully plan to change my wardrobe soon enough, and engage in the human ritual of the ‘selecting of an outfit’. It will be a glorious experience, ha!”

“. . . .Dear,” her mother said, tilting her head. “You haven’t been getting into the sugar drawer again, have you? Gosh, I thought I kept that locked. Look, just go change, sweetie, okay? I’m worried that it’s beginning to smell, and you wouldn’t want that new crush of yours to be repelled, would you?”

“Nothing would please me more.” Bill responded immediately, his harsh tone visually shocking the woman in front of him. “But as you request, mother, I will change my apparel. To the bedroom!”

And off he darted, leaving the worried girl behind.

 

XZOO GSV TVLNVGIB UZHSRLM KLORXV

 

“Bill, Bill, you can’t DO things like that!” Mabel yelled, tugging at her hair. “Come on, how long do you have to stand in the mirror? I’m going to be late for school! I’ve never been late a day in my life! Bill, what are you even DOING?” She floated down in front of the posing demon, who was currently changing from rifling through her wardrobe or staring at himself in the mirror. Bill only chuckled, holding one of Mabel’s purple sweaters in front of him.

“Y’know kid, you’re lucky that I haven’t forgotten the experience of heat stroke with one of my former hosts. Wasn’t pleasant, even less so than possessing your brother’s weakling body. So, I’m not going to pile on the yarn for the sake of pleasant your nagging parental unit.” Pursing his lips, Bill tilted Mabel’s head, holding the sweater out.

“Then what are you going to DO?” Mabel exclaimed, floating in front of him. “I can’t be late for school, you sweater-stealing weirdo, and everybody’s going to be suspicious if I keep wearing your—what are you doing?” The question was directed to Bill, who was currently shedding the triangle-printed sweater, dropping it on the ground and staring at the short-sleeved shirt critically.

A few seconds later, the top shifted to the same printed triangle, the image morphing onto the front of the shirt. Mabel groaned, and Bill laughed triumphantly. “Haha! See there? All fixed, kid, I’m not going away any time soon. Now you can wear whatever strange yarn monstrosities that you see fit. Plus, I’m closer to you, so possessing you will be a cinch!” 

Nodding resolutely, he crossed Mabel’s arms. For a minute, the atmosphere was almost relaxed, until the door was burst open by the younger twin. “Mabel!” Dipper yelled, raising a brow, until his expression shifted into realization. “Mabill. Oh.” He groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Listen, Bill, can you please get out of my sister’s body so that we won’t be late to school? C’mon!”

“Hmm. . . .” Bill tilted Mabel’s head. “It seems you’re both in dilemmas on your educational timing, Shooting Star, Pine Tree. Whatever shall we do? I honestly don’t know why you two are so dependent on such a shallow form of enlightenment—Shooting Star, whatever you’re doing, I don’t know, but I know that you should stop.”

He held up a finger, and looked towards the ghost-mabel, who was currently jutting out her lip, large brown eyes wide and worried. Her hands were clasped together, eyes practically sparkling, teeth ever so slightly pulling at the skin of her lower lip. Dipper, from the background, sighed, rolling his eyes. “She’s doing her Mabel-Face, isn’t she? No use, man. You’re trapped.”

“Oh, hush!” Bill snapped, “As if a mere human expression could even manage to. . . to. . .” He slightly faltered, staring at Mabel’s eyes, the way her head ever so slightly tilted. . . and broke. Perfect. “Ugh. Kid, I don’t know what spell you’re using, but it’s goddamn /terrifying/. “

Mabel gave a scree of joy, and before she knew it, had floated down, wrapping her ghostly arms around the demon’s neck. “I knew it would work! Thanks, Bill, you’re a dime!” Laughing, she was completely oblivious to the demon that had gone stick-straight, eyes wide.

“Shooting Star, explain this phenomenon to me.” He commanded. “My cheeks are feeling strangely warm. It’s not an enjoyable experience, what is the cause of it?” Turning, he was further surprised to see Mabel’s even wider grin.

“Just let me back in my body, dummy.”

9-20 19 3-1-12-12-5-4 2-12-21-19-8-9-14-7 4-21-13-2-1-19-19

Once finally at school, the twins made their way to the home classroom, Mabel happily singing about something to do with yarns and skeletons, and Dipper’s nose stuffed deep into some half priced mystery novel that he’d picked up at a thrift store. Once the twins sat in their respective seats, and the lessons began, Mabel leaned over on her desk, fingers moving expertly across her notebook for premium doodling techniques.

“Psst. Tree-bud.”

It was comical, how quick she straightened and flicked her gaze to the seat behind her. “Jordan?” She whispered, eyes going bright. “Woah, look at this! How long have you been in this class? Did you just transfer? I thought you were in another class, because, like, you’re soooo smart.” She gave a dreamy smile, leaning on her hand.

“Well, y’know,” Jordan shrugged, giving that glittering, dark, enchanting smile. Mabel just about melted into the desk as he spoke. Heck, he could recite a recipe for cabbage-Brussel sprout soup, and she’d listen to it like he was reading Shakespeare. “I wasn’t doing too well in my other class, so hey! At least you’re here. Oh, wait, you’ve got something.” He leaned forward, so close that their faces were inches apart, and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “Bit of yarn.” He muttered, smiling. “Kinda bugging me.”

“Alright, alright.” Dipper interrupted, ‘politely’ grabbing the kid’s collar and yanking him back. “Cut it out, Romeo, we’re actually here to learn, if you haven’t realized.” His glare was more than a little irritated, and luckily, Jordan seemed to pick up on it. Mabel shot a small glare of her own to Dipper for running the moment, but shrugged it off soon enough.

“Oh, yeah, Mabel. Do you have a cellphone?” Jordan asked, still leaning forward. Mabel felt a small electric shock within her, like a shock of maturity. A /cell phone/. She’d heard of the things, seen the relics in the hands of technical teenagers, seen the nonchalant, smooth, suave way that they’d press it up against their ear, muttering the renowned ‘sup’.

“Oh, pfft, /do/ I?” Mabel asked, crossing her legs. “Let me tell you, I’ve got the MOST, uh, hip cell phone there is. Who’s the chairman of technology? This gal! That’s right. Yeah,” She gave an ‘uncaring’ sniff and shifted, tossing her hair. “I’ve /totally/ got a cell phone.”

“Great!” Jordan exclaimed, tilting his head and pulling a piece of paper from his notebook. “I’ll give you my number, here.” Scribbling it down, he ripped it from the corner of the paper, handing it off to Mabel, who’s hands were shaking like they were receiving the holy grail. 

“Oh. My. God.” She whispered, eyes wide, and immediately opened it to read over those beautiful, beautiful digits. “911. . . 3851. . . 8514 . . . 15-23? What’s the 15-23 for?” She asked, raising a brow. Instead of answering, Jordan chose to stare at her sweater, pursing his lips in confusion.

“You changed your sweater?”

“Oh, yeah!” She exclaimed, nodding. “Do you like it? Made it myself, yes I did.”

“It. . .looks great!”

“Thanks!” Nodding proudly, she turned back around to the lesson, kicking her feet idly, ignoring the curse that came from behind her.

KZB ZGGVMGRLM GL GSV XVOOKSLMV

“Just a little more time!” He pleaded, tightening his lips to keep from whimpering at the whip that cracked across his face. Though his skin healed instantly, it still stung, especially the poison that was now seeping through his veins. “I’ve almost got it finished, things like this will TAKE a little longer than you’re used to, master!”

“I don’t necessarily see why you need to excuse yourself. Haven’t I told you how much it bugs me?”

“Yes, but please! There’s nothing I can do!”

“There’s always something, child.” Came the chuckle, which then faded into a weary old sigh. “I am aging, son, and it is not a pleasant experience. The triangle man has secrets, secrets locked in his two apprentices, and the journal that they possess. Find it.”

“Yes. . . “

“Yes what?”

“Yes, father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OLLP ULI GSV HRIH
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who have already reviewed! I love reviews, please keep them going!

**Author's Note:**

> 9-20 19 20-9-13-5 20-15 15-16-5-14 25-15-21-18 5-25-5-19  
> 23-5 1-18-5 18-5-1-4-25 6-15-18 25-15-21
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please, please, please leave reviews and kudos. I'd very much like to know what you thought!


End file.
